


87

by FlatlandDan



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Hand Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-23
Updated: 2012-12-23
Packaged: 2017-11-19 23:54:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/579020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlatlandDan/pseuds/FlatlandDan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"There aren't 87 people in the world who would expect to get a card signed by both of us." Clint replies and switches the channel. He's more then settled now, with blankets, egg nog, cookies and oh god, he's highlighted the TV guide. A lesser man would admit defeat, but the thing Phil knows the most about in the world is how to handle Clint.</p>
            </blockquote>





	87

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt "Quiet Night In"

"We're doing the cards tonight."

"Fuck. No. Just forge my name again."Phil sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose, and watches Clint stubbornly settle further into the sofa.

"Can we not fight about it this year?"

"You said tonight was going to be a quiet night in. You said so at dinner."

"This is what normal people do at the start of December on quiet nights in."

"I thought it was a euphemism for making out on the couch."

"You think everything is a euphemism for making out on the couch."

"I hate those cards."

"There are less this year" Phil says, whincing slightly at his choice of words after they're out. There are less because of Loki and eight months down th line the topic is still a hard one.

"How many?"

"87"

"There aren't 87 people in the world who would expect to get a card signed by both of us." Clint replies and switches the channel. He's more then settled now, with blankets, egg nog, cookies and oh god, he's highlighted the TV guide. A lesser man would admit defeat, but the thing Phil knows the most about in the world is how to handle Clint. He surveys the scene for a moment and sighs loudly before grabbing the cards and pens on the table. Clint scoots up the couch, Phil steals a blanket, and cookie, and they both ignore each other. Phil sits through half of The Muppets Christmas Carol and signs his name on 47 cards before Clint starts to fidget. "I mean, we don't get 87 cards, do we?"

"No. 50 are for a charity raffle."

"Cap's idea?"

"He said that if it made a grown man so happy to get one Avengers autograph, imagine how happy people would be to get a genuine Christmas card signed by all of them."

"Ok. Those I get. What about the other 37"

"SHIELD, my family, the people we live with here, mailman, super at our old apartment, Mrs. Livingston, and a few spares."

"If I get a cramp in my hand and there's an emergency you can explain why I'm useless." Phil snorts and pushes the pile he's signed to the other side of the table. "I'll sign until Muppets are done, but I've got plans for tonight. They did include having sex but that's apparently not happening so I'm falling asleep half way through Die Hard, which is on next."

"Acceptable. But we're going to have to do this again tomorrow night. They have to go into the mail by Wednesday." Phil gets through another 20 cards before he realises that Clint is doodling in the cards, little arrows, targets, Hulks climbing buildings and Iron Mans in a wide variety of festive outfits. "You big softy" he says with a smile. 

"Oh come on. Kids, Phil. Cards for kids. If there is anything guaranteed to get a collection of superheroes with childhood related issues to assemble it's helping to make happy childhoods."  
   
"Yeah," Phil says, reaching over to squeeze Clint's knee slightly before his hand is swatted away. 

"I thought we agreed, no pity for crappy Christmases past." Clint's eyes voice may be accusing, but his eyes are playful.

"Drink your eggnog and keep doodling."

"Make me."

"Stop fishing for a distraction"

"You started it, with your inappropriate knee touching."

"You mentioned couch making out first"

"Yeah, well, you kissed me first."

"Four years ago, Barton."

"Still first, sir" Phil can't help himself, he leans over to kiss the smirk off Clint's face. He tastes like egg nog, cookies and pasta sauce: a little like dinner and a lot like Christmas. "You're influencing my productivity level" Clint mumbles into the corner of his mouth between kisses and smiles. Phil pushes him back onto the couch and straddles him, resting his forehead against Clint's.

"You want to go back to writing cards?" 

"I guess I could do some during Die Hard, if you wanted to take a break now. Wouldn't want you to cramp your paperwork hand" Phil reaches between them to pull they're cocks out with a smirk to mirror Clint's.

"So, now you're worried about my hand cramping up? Are we going to have to prioritise hands now?" Phil's moving slowly, but hard around them both, rocking them just the way he knows they like to start. "Should we ask Nick in the next core staff meeting?" Clint laughs at that, lowering his head and breaking eye contact the way he does when he's worried he'll laugh to hard if he doesn't control himself. Phil hates that, hates the way Clint gets embarrassed to laugh out loud. He starts moving his hand a little faster and Clint's eyes snap back to his.

"Less Fury, more kissing." Clint pushes himself up onto his elbows and Phil is only to happy to meet him halfway, putting a little twist into his wrist movement that has Clint groaning into his mouth. They both know all the tricks to get each other off now, to make it slow or fast, and Phil loves that Clint trusts him to decide half the time. Phil knows it won't take long if he keeps this up but he loves the look on Clint's face to much to slow down. It's less then five minutes before they're spilling into Phil's hand and onto Clint's chest, mirror grins plastered on their faces.

"Happy?" Phil asks, sitting back.

"I think your left hand should be re-classified as a weapon of mass distraction" Clint retorts, reaching over for the wet wipes on the lower shelf of the coffee table (never let it be said they didn't learn from previous times). Not for the first time, Phil is grateful they got an extra wide couch as he rolls over and squishes himself between Clint and the couch.

"I think one set of those in a relationship is enough. Flattery won't get you out of writing cards you know"

"I know. But I'm becoming a fan of these quiet nights in. Yummy food, piles of blankets, quality Christmas films, time alone with you and hand jobs."

"And writing Christmas cards." Phil reminds him, pointedly looked at the cards still on the table.  He's still at 47, but Clint has managed only fifteen. "By Wednesday, Clint. At this rate you'll be at it all week."

"A whole five days of nights like this?" Clint pulls a blanket over them and props a pillow under Phil's head. Die Hard starts up on the television as Clint starts doodling on a other card, using a hardcover book as a table and Phil sighs contentedly. He's nearly dozed off when he hears Clint mumble to himself. "I would take a lifetime of nights like this."

Phil couldn't agree more.


End file.
